


The Benefits of Corsetry

by lettersfromzedelghem



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 08:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5198369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersfromzedelghem/pseuds/lettersfromzedelghem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of stealth at a Templar soiree wasn't new to you. The outfit you had been shoved into certainly was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Benefits of Corsetry

“This is not what I signed up for when I joined the Brotherhood.”

You heard Evie laugh delightedly from behind you as she watched the handmaid putting the last adjustments onto the gown you had found yourself shoved into. It had been necessary, you knew, in order to infiltrate a high society soiree. Your Assassin robes and weapons would have been less than discreet. As you looked at yourself in the floor length mirror in Mrs. Disraeli’s dressing room, you were suddenly skeptical that this flouncy gown would be any more subtle than if you went in with blade drawn. It was a cream colored thing with bands of red ribbon and black lace around the skirt, more lace hanging gaudily from your bodice and sleeves. If the splendor of it wasn’t eye catching, your look of utter discomfort at being laced up tight into a corset definitely was.

“Well, Jacob would be an ugly mug in that gown, so that leaves only you,” Evie said with a grin. She came forward to stand beside you, looking you over and nodding her approval. “It’s a perfect disguise. You’ve got the lockpicking kit?”

You nodded and patted your right leg. Evie had helped you craft a pouch for the tools that could be hidden on your leg, beneath the layers of petticoat and skirt.

“Good. I’ll be with Henry in Southwark, so be careful...tell Jacob to be careful, I mean.”

You nodded and sighed, turning your head to watch as the other assassin went to the window and pushed it open. She was gone in the blink of an eye, clambering down the trellis and vanishing into the night. You imagined she had chosen that route so that she was not ambushed at the front door by Mrs. Disraeli, who had been hovering around all evening in her excitement that she was being included in your schemes.

The grand clock standing in the corner of the room chimed for the tenth hour of the evening and you sighed. It was time to get going. Pausing to make sure you did not forget the matching fan that went with the gown, you exited the room and went to the stairs. You spotted the lady of the house a moment before she saw you, and you steeled yourself for her enthusiasm.

“Oh, look at you!” Mrs. Disraeli crowed as you descended the stairs into the entrance hall of the house. You gave her a hesitant, tight smile as you reached the bottom step, blinking in surprise when she rushed over and smoothed her hand over the ribbon sash around your middle. “You look just marvelous, my dear! You are marvelous anyway, of course, with your guns and knives and such but you are absolutely stunning in this. Isn’t she, Mr. Frye? Mr. Frye? Go on, tell her!”

The spirited woman turned on her heel and gave Jacob an expectant look. The assassin, who was lingering near the front door, had been gazing at you quietly since you had appeared at the top of the stairs. For a beat he said nothing, which was a bit unnerving, but then his lips twitched into a smile and he nodded.

“You’re entirely right, Mrs. Disraeli. She looks lovely.”

The blonde woman tittered with laughter as she turned and made her way through the house, calling for someone to bring around a carriage for the pair of you. Left alone, now, you reached a hand out and braced yourself on the wall, taking a deep breath.

“This is ridiculous. Forget about the Templars. I’m going to die here in this house because of this infernal corset,” you griped, a hand pressed to your constricted waist. Jacob snorted and moved over to your side, placing his hat atop his head as he did.

“Will you be needing help into the carriage, then, as restricted as you are?” He asked smoothly, offering his arm as a house servant moved to open the front door.

You grumbled but accepted his arm anyway, focusing on taking the deepest breaths you could manage as the pair of you exited the house and climbed up into the carriage waiting at the edge of the street.

The party you were to infiltrate was thankfully a short carriage ride away, made more tolerable by Jacob lowering the window a tad so that you could get some fresh air. He was eyeing you with a mixture of amusement and concern but said nothing, instead toying with the silver horse head that topped his cane. You recognized it as one of his cane swords and it comforted you slightly to know that he wasn’t entirely unarmed. As good as you would feel about only having a silly, black hand fan and a lock picking kit in your possession, anyway.

“I’m glad that you’re comfortable,” you finally spoke up, envious of his relaxed posture while you were forced to sit up straight. Jacob chuckled and rested his cane across his thighs.

“It’s only for an hour or two. I think you’ll survive,” he said reassuringly. He swept his gaze over you, then, and tilted his head a bit with a hum. “If it’s any consolation, you are truly beautiful in that gown. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you dressed this way.”

“You scrub up nicely yourself, Mr. Frye,” you replied with a little smile, turning to look out the carriage window. It was an understatement, of course. Jacob rarely wore his evening best but the sleek black of his trousers and jacket paired with the red cravat at his neck was always stunning.

_At least I have one thing to enjoy this evening,_  you told yourself with an inward sigh.

 

You recognized the manor that the carriage stopped in front of, having climbed up and over it a few times during your runs across London’s rooftops. You wished that you could do so at that moment as you took Jacob’s hand and carefully stepped down from the carriage. There was a steady stream of people entering the house, and Jacob took you readily by the arm and led you along after them.

“How soon will you slip upstairs?” Jacob muttered to you as you strode towards the front steps where invitations were being checked. You glanced upward to the fourth window from the left side of the manor where you knew the study was according to Evie’s previous excursion into the house days before.

“As soon as I find the opportunity. You’ll look out for me, I assume?”

“As always, love, though I don’t anticipate you’ll need my help,” Jacob said seriously, and then he put on his best smile as the pair of you reached the doorman and he procured the invitation from his overcoat pocket. The doorman only glanced at the invitation and at the pair of you before waving you inside, already reaching for the next invitation from an older woman behind you.

Inside of the manor were throngs of people dressed in their best, walking and talking and drinking from wall to wall. You felt more at ease immediately; crowds were always a benefit when you needed to remain unnoticed. Jacob nodded his approval to you as you wove your way through the crowd, moving down a long hallway lined with paintings and velvet draperies and finding yourselves in a smaller ballroom with a domed ceiling and no less than five candelabras. Several couples were dancing the waltz while others milled about the edges of the floor and gossiped behind their hands or fans. You turned to look at Jacob just in time to see him reach out and snatch two flutes of champagne from a passing servant. He smiled and shrugged at the pointed look you flashed him.

“We have to blend in, do we not?”

You knew it didn’t matter what you said as Jacob had a deep fondness for champagne, so you sighed and accepted the drink from him, sipping it and casting your eyes around. You were hoping to find the master of the house so that you might have Jacob keep him occupied with conversation while you broke into the study but you did not see him anywhere.

“I don’t think he’s the dancing sort,” Jacob commented after some time, toying with his now empty champagne flute. He handed it to a passing servant and leaned down to speak into your ear. “Have any ideas or shall we use brute force to get the letters?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought, eyes scanning the room in search of inspiration. It wasn’t until you spotted a woman who had just finished dancing go over to an open window and fan herself that you found your way upstairs.

“Stay here. If anyone asks if you know me, you say no. Come find me if I’m not back within the hour,” you told Jacob in a whisper, handing him your champagne and setting off through the crowd.

You heard him call your name once but you didn’t look back. You would have to find the ideal crowd to pull your stunt before and you had an idea of who that would be. It took some long minutes of wandering around the maze of rooms that made up the lower level of the manor before you spotted them through the hundreds of swishing evening gowns -- a group of older, chortling, self aggrandising men near the base of the staircase. Just the sort to see women as the fairer sex, soft and weak and prone to fainting at the slightest provocation. They were perfect. Opening your fan up and fluttering it before your face in a frantic rhythm, you approached them and spoke in a timid, breathless voice.

“I...sirs, if you might point me in the direction of a sitting room, I would be so grateful. I believe that I may…” You trailed off, fan dropping to the floor as you went limp and slumped to the floor with a solid thud. It hurt a bit to fall freely onto the marble tiling but the effect was immediate and precisely what you had hoped for. The men exclaimed in surprise and concern, kneeling to try to rouse you with shaking and uncertain patting to your face. You heard some worried murmuring from onlookers and then a firm, male voice spoke as you were finally scooped up by a strong pair of arms.

“Step aside, please. I will put her in a spare bedroom until she recovers. Ask around to see if she’s come here with anyone who may want to escort her home,” the man said, and you wanted so badly to grin at the entire silly plan actually working. For once you found yourself grateful for the ignorance of men where women were concerned.

You kept your breaths as soft and shallow as you could, counting the steps until you reached the landing of the second floor. The dull sound of a door being nudged open met your ears and then you were carefully set down upon a plush surface seconds later. Satisfied that you were now far away from the crowded lower floor and one step closer to the study, you made a pained sound and let your head loll towards the doorway.

“Can you hear me, miss? Are you well? Can you breath properly, now?”

You opened your eyes slowly and found yourself looking right up into the face of the owner of the house. The very man you were going to rob. You had to disguise your excitement with a faintly confused expression, looking around the opulently furnished room to double check that no one else was present.

“What happened?”

“You fainted. Likely a combination of the excitement of the evening and your choice of dress,” he explained, and his eyes wandered down to the pronounced curve of your waist. You nodded and tried to sit upright but the man pressed a hand to your shoulder and shook his head.

“I think it’s best if you rest for a moment. I’ve asked the others to see if you came here with anyone else.”

“I’m alone, sir,” you said, giving him your more pitiful frown and shifting a little with a wince. “I hurt my shoulder when I fell, I think. Might I sit up so that you can look at it? I do hope that I do not need a doctor.”

“Of course, my dear. I had a sister once fracture an arm from a nasty fall due to fainting. Here we go,” he said sympathetically, sliding an arm behind your back and helping you sit upright. The edge of the mattress dipped beneath his weight as he sat down and reached to pull the gown’s sleeve out of the way.

You waited until his hand landed upon your shoulder to strike, driving your elbow back to catch him square in the nose as he had leaned in to look at you more closely. Before he could do much more than grunt in pain you whirled around and caught him beneath the chin with your fist. His teeth clacked together sharply and then he fell harder to the floor than you had during your act downstairs. Blood seeped from his nose and mouth, staining the front of his shirt and the rug beneath him. Satisfied but knowing that you needed to hurry, you removed the sash from your waist and shoved it between his lips, wrapping it twice around his head and tying it into a tight knot. Then you took one heavy tie from the curtains on the window to bind his wrists, and only a moment later you had him locked inside the armoire, tucked in between some fur coats.

The second floor was deserted and so you were free to run the length of the house to the study. It took mere seconds to find the only locked drawer in the entire room, and you quickly lifted your skirt and petticoat to retrieve the lock picking tools from the leather pouch strapped to your thigh. Steadying your hands against the adrenaline and thrill of potentially being discovered, you worked the lock until it yielded to your efforts with a soft click. When you jerked the drawer open you were greeted by exactly what you had wanted. The letters were graced by the American Templar Grandmaster’s signature, dating back over a year and some months time period. You counted six in total, folding them up quickly and securing them in between your thigh and the leather band of the tool pouch. Once the picking tools were tucked away, you fixed your skirt and stood, kicking the drawer shut as you turned and went to the door.

“This ridiculous gown does have some use,” you muttered to yourself as you stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind yourself. Rather than taking the main stairwell down and risking someone seeing you return without the house master, you took the private, narrow stairwell that led down to the hallway used by the servants to remain out of the way during large parties such as this. A few of the servants gave you odd looks but said nothing, not wanting to bother with you when they were already overwhelmed by the number of guests in the manor.

As you rounded the corner and stepped through the doorway of the room where you had last seen Jacob, you felt a hot spike of annoyance run through you, effectively ruining the glow of a successful mission. Across the sea of people you could see Jacob leaned up against the wall beside a window, a fresh champagne flute in hand. His attention was not on the crowd but upon a girl at his side who appeared to be doing her absolute best to entrance him.

She was young, not more than seventeen if you had to guess, and clearly from a wealthy family judging by the strands of pearls about her neck and the fine, pink fabric and ivory lace of her gown. You began making your way over, still mindful to go slow and not draw attention. As you ducked around a rather intoxicated group of young men, you saw her lift a dainty, gloved hand and brush it along Jacob’s upper arm. He glanced downward at the touch a raised a brow, a bit of tension building in his shoulders.

Mild annoyance gave way to fierce irritation and the next person to get in your way received a rather vicious elbow to their ribs as you stormed towards the other assassin. Jacob finally saw you coming when he glanced away from his new company to observe the room. His lips twitched, clearly doing his best to hide a smirk, and he lifted his champagne to take a large swallow of it as you came to a halt behind the other woman and tapped her pointedly on the shoulder. When she turned and ran her eyes over you, assessing you from hair to gown, you had to take a deep breath to keep from jamming the heel of your hand up into her nose.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to steal him away from you, miss,” you said, schooling your voice into an even tone. The girl pursed her lips in disapproval and stepped so that she was fully in between Jacob and you.

“And why should I allow that? I was here first and we have been having a rather lovely time discussing leaving this party together to attend a better one on the other side of the borough.”

Your eyes went a little wide at that and you cast a disbelieving look to Jacob over her shoulder. The man was resolutely ignoring the pair of you, sipping his champagne and watching the crowd. You knew that he was listening, that he would step in if things got too volatile, but you didn’t have the luxury of waiting for that to happen. If anyone discovered the bloodied man upstairs with your sash in his mouth, a rude girl would be the least of your worries. What could you say, then, to get the upper hand? Clearly she had played her best card and was giving you a sour look, waiting for you to back down and leave.

“Perhaps I should have introduced myself instead, my dear,” you began hotly, stepping forward into her space and squaring your stance as if you were ready to fight. “I am Mrs. Frye. His wife.”

The young lady visibly blanched, eyes immediately darting around to see if anyone else had heard you. You saw Jacob’s head whip around to look but you remained focused on your target. If you couldn’t scare her off with physical violence, you would simply take the route of intimidation.

“Maybe a strongly worded letter needs to be addressed to your guardians about your lack of restraint and propriety around married men. I’m sure they would be interested in knowing you are out without a chaperone. It is rather unsightly for one of your age and inexperience in society,” you added waspishly, raising your voice just enough to turn a few heads.

You were glad for the irritation you had felt at the sight of her fingers on Jacob’s arm; it made it all too easy to maintain the lie. The girl’s expression went from meek embarrassment to terror at the mention of her parents and she gingerly stepped aside.

“I beg pardon, madam. He was unmarried to my knowledge. I would never...not intentionally...I am so very sorry.”

Your hard expression did not waver in spite of her apologetic tone and your gaze followed her as she gave Jacob a faint, polite nod in farewell before scurrying off through the crowd.

“Stupid child,” you muttered as you turned to look at Jacob over your shoulder.

You wished at once that you hadn’t as he was grinning from ear to ear like an incredibly satisfied cat after a saucer of fresh cream. He set aside his drink and stepped in close to you, a hand brushing against yours as he did. You had to turn your face away from the crowded room to hide your look of surprise as Jacob leaned in to speak against your ear.

“My _darling_ Mrs. Frye. Threatening to ruin a young girl’s reputation? Am I sensing jealousy on your part?"

He asked it in a low, teasing voice. You made a quiet sound of warning and turned to meet his gaze. You could see a soft flush on his cheeks, likely from the champagne, and his pupils were a bit wider than usual.

“Don’t make me laugh, Mr. Frye. We simply do not have time for a silly girl trying to get you to lift her skirts.”

Jacob crooned soothingly as he took your hand into his own. Though his movements and physical demeanor suggested affection befitting a married man, the impish gleam in his eyes said something else. Maybe it was that gleam that was making your belly flutter.

“No need to be snappy. Does the lady wish to retire for the evening? Judging by the scuff on your knuckles, you’ve succeeded in stealing the documents.”

You opened your mouth to agree that it would be the perfect time to leave, before people began asking questions, but your voice caught in your throat as Jacob brought your hand to his lips. The kiss was barely there, only a brush of warm lips on your knuckles, but the effect was devastating. You wound up simply nodding, and he dropped your hand and bowed his head.

“I’ll fetch the carriage, then,” he said, giving you a more serious look before continuing. “Make sure that no one follows you outside. I’ll be ‘round to the front in a moment.”

Jacob turned and made his way through the room before you could reply. You watched him go until his broad shoulders and top hat were out of sight, and then you discreetly exited through a side entrance that led out into the gardens. Though it was a cool evening you were grateful for the feeling of it against your warm cheeks as you walked to the front of the property.

 

An hour later and you were seated at the desk in the sleeping quarters of the train. The stolen letters sat atop it, pinned in place by your lock picking tools. The movement of the train over the rails made your hair pins rattle as you removed them one by one and dropped them into a spare teacup. You shook your tresses loose from the ornate twists that Evie had helped you create and sighed in relief.

“Will you be needing help with your corset, Mrs. Frye?” A voice asked behind you. Your gaze flew up from where you had bowed your head to undo the clasp of you necklace, settling on the mirror hanging over the desk. Jacob’s reflection greeted you as he leaned against the opposite wall, arms folded across his chest and a little smile on his face. “Because I would be delighted to, seeing as I cannot seem to remember undressing you on the evening of our wedding...or anything from our wedding, really. Do tell me, was it lovely? Did Evie cry?”

“Oh, shut it, you intolerable ass,” you replied, eyes rolling as his smile grew into a grin. Jacob pushed himself off of the wall and strode over to stand behind you. You couldn’t help but stare. He had removed his hat and jacket some time after returning to the train, leaving you with an unimpeded view of his white shirt stretched over his broad chest.

“Do you often lurk about while ladies get undressed?” You asked him with a delicate sniff as you unclasped your necklace and set it aside.

“Only with the prettiest ones.”

“What a blatant abuse of your skills as an Assassin.”

“Maybe I’ll go abuse my skills with that poor girl you embarrassed this evening.”

You scoffed and shook your head, moving to the edge of your chair so that you could reach awkwardly behind yourself to begin unlacing the gown’s bodice. It was uncomfortable work but not impossible...at least not until you realized you could not reach the very center of the lacing from any angle. Sighing and dropping your hands to your lap, you bit the inside of your cheek before looking over your shoulder. Jacob was still there, watching you with an almost bored expression save for the ghost of a smirk on his lips. He knew that you were struggling and was simply waiting for you to admit it.

“Yes, all right. Come help me out of this ridiculous thing if you’re just going to stand there,” you said in a rush, glaring as he snickered and gave a dramatic, obedient bow.

“I live to serve,” he said, taking hold of the loosened lacing and picking up where you left off. You didn’t dignify him with a response, instead focusing on kicking off your shoes beneath the desk and wiggling your toes. Behind you, Jacob made quick work of the bodice lacing and you jumped slightly as he gripped the fabric and opened it with a sharp tug.

“Bloody hell, love. No wonder you’ve been so short with me,” he exclaimed as he prodded at the second layer of stiff, white fabric and tight lacing that made up your corset. “Isn’t this uncomfortable?”

“Considering I’m not a high society lady who wears this on a daily basis, yes, Jacob. It is rather unpleasant. Why do you think Evie and I wear trousers and shirts?”

He hummed and shook his head and then you felt the first pull of his fingers on the corset lacing. You had anticipated a lot of clueless tugging and rib crushing pressure as a result, but Jacob was almost cautious in his actions. When you looked into the mirror and met his gaze, he winked at you and grinned at the blush that rose on your cheeks.

“You know, Mrs. Frye,” Jacob began conversationally, leaning forward as if he meant to rest his chin on your shoulder. “It is a good thing we’re married. It would be scandalous of me to be doing this otherwise.”

“Jacob,” you said dryly, turning your head to look directly at him. It was a mistake, you realized at once. The feeling of his big fingers brushing against your back and the nearness of his lips to yours made you feel suddenly breathless.

“Did you drink your share of champagne tonight?” Jacob asked suddenly, his fingers pausing in the middle of your back. You furrowed your brows and shook your head.

“No, of course not. I was a bit busy. You drank more than I did, I’m sure. Why?”

Jacob’s lips twitched into a smile, albeit a soft one instead of the typical impish grin.

“Your face is a tad flushed. If it’s not the champagne…”

You did turn your face away at that. Or rather, you tried to before one of Jacob’s hands came up and around to grip you chin gently between thumb and forefinger. His gaze was alight with mirth as he studied you.

“Ah, so it is me that’s got you turning pink,” he nearly purred. You sighed heavily in preparation for the teasing that was sure to come. “We put you into a fancy dress for one evening and you’ve turned into a blushing maiden. I can’t believe-”

“ _Please_ be quiet,” you groaned, and then before Jacob could utter another obnoxious word you pressed your lips to his. It was a hard kiss but it felt so good, his warm lips pressed against your own and his hand gripping at your back in surprise. It lasted only a moment before you moved to pull away, already formulating an apology and wondering where the nearest hotel was that you could hide in until your mortification had passed.

However, you hardly managed to draw a breath once your lips had parted before Jacob leaned in to claim your mouth once more. The second kiss was soft and slow in a way that you hadn’t anticipated and it was paired with his rough hand sliding up your spine to grip at the nape of your neck. Jacob’s teeth nipped at your lower lip, tugging it gently and drawing you closer so that he could lick into your mouth. When you curled your tongue against his a low growl of approval rumbled in his chest and he pulled back to look at you. His gaze was heated but his smile was sweet and he nudged his nose against your cheek.

“Shall I finish the task at hand?”

His voice was low as he spoke against your jawline, lips brushing down the side of your neck. You glanced at his reflection and smiled at the eager expression on his face. Still, as much as you wanted to say yes to this and to whatever else he wanted to do to you, you hummed and busied yourself with gathering your hair over one shoulder.

“I don’t know, Mr. Frye. What exactly do you intend to do once you’ve finished with my corset?”

Jacob’s mouth paused in the crook of your neck and he made a thoughtful noise.

“I had been toying with the idea of letting your thighs warm my ears. If the lady desires it, of course.”

_God damn him_ , you thought fiercely. You felt your lower belly tighten and heat begin to coil between your legs at the idea. You couldn’t let him win, though. Not just yet.

“A strong statement. I’m hesitant to allow you the privilege only to end up sorely disappointed.”

“You cheeky bird,” Jacob muttered fondly against your shoulder, and he slowly began loosening the remaining corset lacing. His pace was more for teasing than out of caution, now, and you only just managed to keep up the neutral expression you’d adopted. You felt it when the corset was unlaced at long last and even Jacob made an approving noise in his throat. He lowered his head to kiss one bare shoulder blade and you could not suppress the shiver that ran up your spine as the scruff on his jawline scraped your skin. However, when Jacob tried to pull one sleeve of the gown down from your shoulder, you tutted at him and turned in your seat.

“Perhaps you should close the doors and draw the curtain, hmm?”

Jacob huffed a laugh but nodded and turned to head for the door nearest to the train’s engine. You watched him move to the other door and once his back was to you, you stood and moved away from the desk and towards the bed. You had to clutch at the loose fabric of your gown and corset, but the fact that you were so close to being undressed was titillating.

“I’ll warn you that those locks won’t stop Evie if she really wants in here,” Jacob began as he turned back to you, a hand grabbing the edge of the privacy curtain that hung from the ceiling. He stopped short when he saw that you had moved, eyes roving over your disheveled clothing before he snapped the curtain shut. In a few strides he was before you, leaning down to kiss your lips. His hands came up to cradle your face and he leveled you with a serious look. “Are you certain about this? I wouldn't dream of coercing you. I know that I was a bit forward at the party.”

You couldn’t help but smile because this was why you were so fond of this man. For all of his irresponsible actions and brash attitude and obnoxious behavior, Jacob still had a massive heart. Not for everyone, you knew, but for the people who mattered most to him.

“You were forward,” you said softly, and then hurried to add when his brows knitted together in worry: “But I enjoyed it. I promise you.”

The concern in his expression melted away at once and he leaned in to kiss your forehead as his hands slid down over the curve of your breasts to grip at the loosened gown. You removed your own hands at once and allowed Jacob to pull the garment down to your hips, thighs, and then it fell to the floor with a quiet swish of fabric. It only took a small pull to remove the corset and he tossed it aside without ceremony, eyes fixed upon your now bare skin. Still, he grinned when his attention flickered to the ridiculous petticoat and bustle still hanging about your waist.

“You’re done up like a present, aren’t you?”

You raised a brow and gave him a long, tired look but you couldn’t hold it as he caught you around the waist and kissed you. His fingers found the tie for the bustle, easily pulling it loose and dropping it aside. You gasped sharply as his hands settled on your ass through the petticoat, drawing your hips in tightly to his.

“Lie back on the bed, now. Arse at the edge for me,” Jacob whispered hotly against your mouth, walking you backwards until your knees bumped into the mattress. He gave you one small shove to send you on your way.

You toppled back with a laugh, mirroring Jacob’s grin as he smoothed his rough palms over your bare stomach and up to your breasts. He lowered his head and kissed at the base of your throat, lips slowly moving down to brush over one nipple, then the other. Your back arched a little as he took one peaked bud into his mouth and teased it with teeth and tongue, sucking hard enough to leave your skin flushed and sensitive. One of your hands tangled into Jacob’s dark hair, gripping tightly as he moved his mouth to the other nipple and bit down firmly. The man over you grunted as you pulled at his hair and his hands suddenly moved to your hips, taking hold of the petticoat and drawing it down a few inches. Jacob finally released your flesh from his mouth and nuzzled against your chest before standing upright. His cheeks were tinted a faint red and you could see his arousal pressed against the front of his trousers.

Biting your lip, you reached a hand out to press against his groin, and a soft noise of want slipped out as you felt how thick he was.

“Jesus, love,” Jacob mumbled as he gripped your wrist, his hips pushing into your hand. He drew a sharp breath and his head dropped to the side, eyelids heavy and lips parted. Before you could undo the front of his trousers and touch him properly Jacob pulled your hand away and gripped your knees, parting them so that he could kneel between them. More impatient, now, he tugged the petticoat and your undergarments off in one quick movement.

Entirely naked, now, and with Jacob in between your thighs, you squirmed and propped yourself up onto your elbows. Jacob ran his palms over your legs from knees to hips and he peppered kisses along the soft skin of your inner thighs. His eyes moved up to meet yours as he kissed you, and then he lowered his attention to your sex.

“What a gorgeous cunt,” Jacob whispered, rubbing his cheek against your thigh. You felt the heat creep up your neck at those words in his low, rich voice and bit your lip.

“You’re incredibly wicked,” you said, voice more breathy than serious. Jacob chuckled softly and winked up at you.

“I know.”

As you laughed, he moved a hand up higher between your thighs and brushed the backs of his fingers against the coarse curl of your hair. You bit your lip as he made a low sound of approval and ran a finger along your slick folds. When he pulled his hand away you saw his skin was shiny with your arousal, and you swallowed hard as Jacob sucked his finger into his mouth. Unable to resist, you reached down and ran the pad of your thumb over the scar through his brow, drawing your fingers down the plane of his cheek.

"Please," you sighed, parting your knees a bit more around him. Jacob smiled and hooked a hand under one of your knees, lifting your leg and draping it over his shoulder. With his arm hooked around the outside of your thigh, Jacob held you firmly in place as he lowered his head and gave you one long, slow lick, parting your folds with the tip of his tongue.

The muscles in your belly and thighs quivered and you groaned softly, fingers digging into the bed linens. Encouraged by your reaction, Jacob brought his other hand up to part your folds so that his tongue could flicker over your clit. He was gentle, mindful not to go too fast from the start, and you keened in your throat as he licked at the sensitive bud. His attention quickly shifted, lips sliding down to close around your labia, pulling gently and suckling with a pleased growl.

Helpless against the onslaught of sensation you closed your eyes and leaned your head back, elbows wobbling as your muscles trembled. Your skin felt too hot and your hips surged up against Jacob's mouth on their own accord. His tongue was too much, darting up to tease your clit and then plunging into you as deeply as Jacob could get it before withdrawing and retracing its path. His mouth enveloped your cunt and the heat of it was almost scalding, your nerves crying out with every swipe and press of his tongue. Even more distressing was his hungry gaze fixed upon you when you found the strength to lift your head and look downward.

"Jacob," you whimpered, tugging at the blanket fitfully and panting hard.

The man before you groaned and shot a hand up to take one of your own, guiding it to his hair. You didn't hesitate to tangle your fingers into the dark locks, pulling as if to bring Jacob closer, chasing the warmth of his mouth. Collapsing back onto the bed and sliding your other hand down to fist it into Jacob's shirt, you dug your heel into his back and gasped raggedly.

Suddenly Jacob slowed the movements of his tongue and lifted his head. His breath was heavy and it made you tremble as it hit your wet flesh. You made a sound of protest and craned your neck to look down at him, a pout on your lips. He chuckled and hushed you, squeezing your hip before sliding his hand down between your legs. His fingertips ghosted over your clit but you realized his true intentions only a second before he slipped two of his thick, long fingers into you.

One quick thrust and curl of them had you crying out and arching up off of the bed, too overwhelmed to grouse at Jacob for grinning like a fool. He lowered his head and sucked at your clit as his fingers worked within you, spreading wide and rubbing up against that spot that made you thrash beneath him. Your gasps for breath between moans were ever desperate but it seemed impossible to get enough air. The tension that had began in your belly had spread, enveloping you from fingertips to toes. Just a little more and you would tip over the edge, you knew, and you whimpered fitfully in hopes that Jacob would understand. His free hand was gripping your thigh so tightly that you knew it would bruise but it didn't matter when he showed no sign of slowing down, fingers curling faster and faster as he groaned against you.

"There... _there_ , like that, please," you begged, head tossing fitfully on the bed. You heard a rumbling groan in response and Jacob pressed his mouth over you even harder, licking and sucking like a man deprived of food and drink for weeks. The rough scrape of his sideburns on your delicate flesh was maddening, painful in a way, but the sting of it was making your climb to release even more dizzying.

Your harsh breaths abruptly caught in your throat and an aching cry tore from your throat as your thighs and belly tightened and your spine arched. Jacob made an appreciative sound as you shuddered through your release, caressing you inside as your muscles spasmed and clutched at his fingers. His tongue gentled slowly as your cries began to soften and your hips squirmed against the sensation of his mouth. Jacob turned his head and pressed a kiss to your thigh, easing your leg down from his shoulder and massaging the shaking muscles there.

"You're divine," he whispered hotly. You laughed shakily as you stretched your arms out over your head, basking in the wake of your release. Jacob slid his fingers from you and licked your release from them, humming in contentment as he gazed up at you. When he stood upright and loomed over you, you saw his his lips were slick from your own arousal and though you had just had one climax, you felt fiercely hungry for him all over again.

Your thoughts must have been obvious in your expression because Jacob smiled and licked his lips, his hands coming up to undo the buttons of his shirt. Each loosened one revealed more of his broad chest, the dark, coarse hair that made a tantalizing trail down into his trousers.

"You look positively ferocious, darling," Jacob said as he finished with the last button and shrugged his shirt off onto the floor. "I'm afraid you may try to eat me."

You simply hummed and stretched a leg out to nudge your foot against his stomach. You eyed the obvious bulge of his cock in his trousers but made no move to touch him yet.

"You'll have no one else to blame but yourself if I do."

Jacob smirked and moved his hands to his trousers, fingers toying with the button on them.

"Shall I?"

"I'm going to find the brawniest Blighter that I can and fuck him instead if you don't."

Jacob threw his head back with a barking laugh and swatted your foot away from his stomach, popping the buttons on his trousers and sliding them down his legs without preamble.

"Now, now. No need to make any hasty decisions," he replied as he stood upright. You wanted to snark at him some more, truly, but your mind abruptly went blank as you gazed at his cock, hard and flushed with blood and curving slightly towards his belly.

Sensing the shift in your desire, Jacob maneuvered you back onto the bed so that your head was nestled amongst the pillows. He settled down beside you and pulled you in against his chest, kissing you lazily and slipping his tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. He cupped one breast in his hand and sighed in approval as you whined into the kiss. As Jacob teased your breasts with his fingers, you pressed a hand to his belly and slid it down, following the dark hair to the base of his cock. You did not hesitate to close your fingers around him, marveling at the smoothness of his skin and the heat of his arousal. Your hold on him was far from unappreciated; Jacob's breathing deepened and he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, nipping at your pulse and rolling his hips forward.

"I could hardly manage to keep my hand off of myself when I had my tongue inside of you," he mumbled into your skin, groaning quietly as you stroked him from root to tip, rubbing beneath the wide head of his cock with your thumb.

You shivered and tightened your fingers around him in response, swiping your thumb over the head of him on the next up stroke to collect the bead of fluid welling there. While you slowly worked your hand up and down the length of him, you brought your other one down to cup the sensitive sac beneath his erection. Jacob exhaled sharply and bucked his hips forward, lifting his head to kiss messily along your jawline.

"You had your chance to drive me mad. It's my turn, now," you explained rather impishly. He opened his mouth to respond but you gave him a slight squeeze with both hands that left him gasping and dropping his head back into the pillows.

"And you said that _I_ was wicked," he breathed out, an arm coming up to rest across his eyes. You smirked and used his lowered defense to nudge him to lie flat upon his back. Jacob peered at you curiously but made no moves to fight you as you settled astride his thighs.

Holding his cock flush to his stomach, you leaned down and ran the flat of your tongue from the delicate sac to the head of his cock, closing your lips around him and sucking firmly. A rough groan tore itself from him and he arched his hips, a hand coming down to card through your hair.

While you teased him with light sucks and licks, you drug your nails up and down his belly, digging in just enough to leave faint red trails behind. The weight of his cock and the salty taste of him against your tongue made you squirm and a needy ache began deep inside of you, making you quicken your pace of sliding his cock in and out of your mouth. Jacob's hand in your hair tightened and he murmured your name, tugging your head up and bringing his other hand down to run the pad of his thumb over your slick, swollen lips.

"I...I may have been mistaken in calling you a blushing maiden," he rasped, licking his lips and taking a steadying breath. You smiled and leaned up to press a kiss to his chin, shifting your hips forward so that the length of his cock slid against the slick skin of your cunt.

The both of you sighed luxuriantly at the feeling of such sensitive skin pressed together. One of Jacob's big hands settled upon the curve of your lower back, stroking your skin absently as he ground his hips up to meet yours. He craned his neck up and pressed hot, open mouthed kisses to your breasts, nuzzling against you and making a pleased noise.

"Do you want to ride St. George, love?" Jacob asked as he smoothed his hand down over the swell of your backside, looking up at you with obvious want.

You smiled and nodded, ducking your head to press a biting kiss to the rook tattoo upon the man's chest. As you did so, you slipped a hand down between your bodies and gripped his cock, guiding the head of it to your entrance. He slid inside easily and your head fell back at the exquisite stretch of your body around his cock. You whimpered softly when your hips finally came to rest against his. You braced your hands against Jacob's chest, fingers digging into the firm muscle as you wiggled your hips a bit. Jacob grunted and grasped at your splayed thighs, murmuring a plea for you to go on as he gazed up at you with something akin to awe.

You were powerless but to do just that, the sight of him flushed and gasping and needy beneath you increasing your hunger for him tenfold. Your hips began to move in a sinfully slow, grinding motion that made Jacob's chest heave and his head tip back. Emboldened by his reactions, you scraped the edge of a nail over one of his nipples, and when he raised his head with a low hiss you caught his mouth in a messy kiss.

You teased his lips with teeth and tongue as you raised yourself up and then sank back down onto his cock. Every tight clutch of your inner muscles around him coaxed another gasp or moan from his chest. His fingers upon your thighs were denting your flesh and he finally grabbed your lip between his teeth for a change, tugging firmly with a low growl. As he did so, Jacob planted his feet against the bed for leverage and thrust up into you sharply, a fleeting grin taking over his lips at the shocked cry you let out.

His thrusts only quickened as he shifted his hands up to your hips, clutching you hard and holding you in place as he fucked up into you. Your face twisted in ecstasy and you leaned down to kiss him, mouth sliding down along his jaw before you nuzzled into his neck and gripped at the blanket on either side of his head. Jacob turned his face and kissed your hair, gasping against your ear when you went tight around him.

Only a moment later, Jacob slowed his thrusts and caught you by the back of your neck, easing you back upright and sliding a hand down to sit low on your belly. He sat up as well, bracing his other hand behind himself and bending his knees up to support your lower back. The first stroke of his thumb over your clit made you whine and tremble, hips pushing into his hand. Jacob hummed in encouragement and kissed you, the pace languid as your ground against his lap like a thing possessed. You sucked and nibbled at his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and gripping the hair upon the back of his head. The tension that had been knotting up in your belly was growing, making your legs shake and your breathing go shallow and frantic. You heard yourself gasping beneath your breath for Jacob to give you more, to make you come, and you felt yourself teetering at the edge as he ground his palm against your clit.

"Nearly there, darling. Let me feel it," Jacob whispered in a rush, brushing his mouth over yours and pressing your foreheads together.

The nearness of his lips and the tenderness of his voice seemed to be the catalyst you needed; an aching cry caught in your throat as your muscles tightened and quivered, body clenching around Jacob greedily as pleasure washed over you in agonizing waves. Your hips jerked and ground into Jacob on their own accord as you rode out your climax but his rapid thrusts up into you kept you from fully coming down. His hand came up to grasp your hair and he kissed you clumsily, biting your lips and growling your name as his body strained for release beneath you. The spasms of your inner muscles upon his cock worked him to orgasm, his brows knitted together as he groaned harshly and trembled. The heat of his release within you made you groan and tighten around him purposefully, trying to get ever closer to him. Jacob's arms wound around you as he shivered through it, his mouth open and gasping against your cheek.

In the wake of your shared pleasure was the sound heavy breaths and the rough clatter of the train moving down the tracks. Jacob nuzzled his nose against yours and pecked you on the lips, one hand gently brushing your sweat dampened hair back from your temples. He studied your flushed face for a moment and ran the calloused backs of his knuckles over your cheek. The fondness in his eyes made you smile shyly and lean into his touch.

"I must be the luckiest chap in London tonight," he mumbled, grinning as you snorted and ruffled his hair.

He rested his hands on your sides to help you balance as you lifted yourself up and off of his lap. Instead of moving away, though, you sprawled out beside him and hummed contentedly. You rested one hand on your belly, gazing up at Jacob as he swept his eyes over your bare form on display for him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your nose and then stood from the bed, kicking the pieces of your gown aside as he moved to the little hearth in the corner and stoked the fire up again, iron fire poker in hand.

"Do you want me to..." You began, suddenly uncertain about what to do. Jacob turned to look at you over his shoulder, raising his scarred brow. You sat up and motioned towards the other train car where the plush lounge was. "I can sleep in there, if you don't want the others to know-"

Jacob made a dismissive sound and set the fire poker aside, coming back to you and crawling onto the bed. He kissed you soundly, pressing you down into the rumpled blankets and settling atop you. When he pulled back he smiled and shook his head, rubbing his thumb against the line of your cheekbone.

"If Evie can sneak off to Greenie's shop for a horizontal refreshment, I can do the same with you here. I'm not ashamed. Certainly not of you."

You smiled and nodded, closing your eyes as Jacob leaned his forehead to yours.

"If it's not terribly untoward, I would love it if this was more than a simple brush between us," Jacob said softly, as if making a deep confession. You felt an affectionate flutter in your chest and smoothed a hand down his side. "What do you say?"

"I would love nothing more, Mr. Frye...on one condition."

You opened your eyes to smile sweetly at Jacob's curious expression.

"Every time I'm made to wear a corset from here on, you'll have to make it up to me with that clever mouth of yours."

A huffing laugh escaped the man over you as he shook his head a little in disbelief before leaning down to kiss you.

"I think that's a mutually beneficial arrangement, Mrs. Frye."

The stinging, open palmed smack you landed on his back made Jacob wince through his laughter as you huffed and tried to wriggle free from beneath him.

 

Just before sunrise you woke as Jacob jostled you while trying to ease out of bed. You watched him groggily, admiring the naked expanse of his back and arse as he stretched his arms overhead. You sat up wordlessly but the soft slip of the bed linens off of your body made him look around at you. He smiled and came back long enough to lean over the bed and plant a kiss on your lips.

"The letters are gone so Evie has been back for a while, now. She couldn't resist picking the lock, clearly," he murmured with a smirk. He stood upright then and walked out of sight to the curtained area where your all kept your clothes and boots. You moved to the edge of the bed and stretched as well, fingers combing through your hair and pulling it over your shoulder so that you could make quick work of taming it into a braid.

While you were searching the desk for the hair fastener to clip your braid together, Jacob sauntered up behind you and slid his big arms around your middle. He was dressed, the feeling of his robes and belts pressed into your bare skin making you squirm.

"I set out your clothes and blade on the bed. Do you wish to go out and face her or slip away and go have a cup of tea before we continue our work?"

You smiled and turned in his embrace, kissing his chin.

"I'll take that tea first, please."

"I'll create a distraction while you get dressed, then," he said, bending to press one more quick kiss to your cheek. "Meet me on the roof in five minutes?"

"Love to," you replied, hurrying over to grab up your trousers and shimmying into them as Jacob exited the car.

You wasted no time in donning your shirt, sash, and weapon belts, strapping on your blade and shoving your feet into your boots. As you went to the door of the car and peeked out through the center window, you could see Jacob giving Evie his best, winning smile while she gave him her most exhausted look. She at least had the stolen correspondences in her hand, which you knew would smooth things over once she settled down to read through them. You snickered and stepped out onto the narrow edge between the cars and then hoisted yourself up onto the roof and gazed out across the stretch of Whitechapel in the morning light.

You nearly missed the sound of the car door banging open over the rumble of steel wheels and the train horn blaring, and suddenly Jacob was at your side. His hazel eyes were bright and excited as he held his hand out for you to take.

"I’ve got a pocketful of coins. Shall we, love?"

You slid your hand into his and laced your fingers together, squeezing tightly.

"Gladly, Mr. Frye."

**Author's Note:**

> 'Riding St. George' is an old term for sex where the woman is on top of the man. I ran across it during research of vintage sex slang and it made me laugh so I had to include it.
> 
> The gown I had in mind while writing this was inspired by [this one.](http://fripperiesandfobs.tumblr.com/post/112634277287/evening-dress-ca-1869-from-the-galleria-del)


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